Duck Lake what do you see

She seemed reluctant to answer him at first. Was she suspicious he invited her to a meal? It seemed in keeping with her character to assume the worst of everyone; but again, Goldry tried not to presume too much.

His whole face smiled and his tail lashed out once across the grass. "I do," he said.

Goldry stood up, half-stretched, then turned and trotted along the lakeshore. He slicked his ears back as he went, and glanced once at Aguta over his shoulder. Laughter boiled up in his chest, though he smothered it with a silent grin.

He peeled away from the lake when he reached the base of the hill he napped on earlier, and he started trotting up its grassy incline at a clipped pace. Their prey lay in the gullies behind the hill.

In his last encounter with them, one had been critically injured, prohibiting its escape from the area. Nevertheless, it was still a formidable creature and eluded his hungry jaws with ease. Goldry had been recuperating and preparing for another attack when Aguta plunged into the lake. He wondered if two hunters would have any more success than one.

Goldry stopped underneath the cottonwood at the top of the hill, and squinted as he surveyed the grassy fields below. But his nose pinpointed his prey before his eyes did: the scent of the blood and marrow of a broken bone was hard to hide.

"There." He pointed his nose at a trio of tawny creatures grazing near a clump of aspen in a gully. Their flanks twitched at every sound, and their ears flicked back and forth. Two of them would periodically lift their heads after a bite or two, scouting for danger; for him. The third hobbled between them, chewing feverishly.

Goldry glanced at Aguta and gave her a toothy grin. "Ever hunt pronghorn before?"